


Crackle of Flames

by Batsutousai



Series: Tales of the Fairy Men [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Prisoner abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki doesn't know what this connection is, but he'll fight and die to keep Thomas safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crackle of Flames

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The characters of Thomas "Tom" Hiddleston is based on a real person, and no offence is intended; this is only for the amusement of myself and other like-minded (read: mentally ill) fans.
> 
> **A/N:** This is part of a series of fics based on [a challenge](http://batsutousai.tumblr.com/post/38980067347) to write your OTP using various fairy tales. And colours. Twelve fics, one per month, for the entirety of 2013.  
>  February's prompt is _The Steadfast Tin Soldier_ with the colour orange.  
>  Much like last month's adaptation of _The Little Mermaid_ , this fairytale does not end happily, but in death. Got your tissues ready?
> 
> Originally, this was going to follow with the original version of this tale much closer, but I was having trouble sorting that. So this is a bit of a mesh between this fandom and _The Steadfast Tin Soldier_.

Loki honestly didn't care why the Midgardians needed Asgardian assistance, but he had heard enough prattling on about it to understand that it wasn't really necessary for him to attend with them. Yet he was still being dragged along, for reasons that Thor wouldn't have explained, even had Loki been able to ask. (As it was, he remained gagged to 'save his people from his powers of persuasion', as Odin had put it. It was a wise move on his part, as Loki was itching to be free of his manacles, and not even the Allfather was immune to his silver words when he was at his most desperate.) 

Travel between the Realms was still difficult, with Bifröst still only partially completed, and Loki discovered the first of many reasons why he was to accompany the group when Thor freed him from his manacles in front of one of the few paths through Yggdrasil the Æsir had managed to find since Loki's fall. 

Loki raised a silent eyebrow at the action, considering it hadn't involved the removal of the gag. 

Thor read the question and his expression, already tense from whatever news called him back to Midgard, tightened further. "I know you capable of working magic in silence, Brother." 

Loki let a harsh snort from his nose – uncaring at how very much like a horse he sounded, beyond that it always made Thor uncomfortable for reasons that Loki had once flinched from – and turned back towards the invisible passage. With the return of his access to Yggdrasil's magic, he could see the glowing orange outline of the passage, and the shadow of branches on the other side of it. 

He took a long moment to watch the shadows darken in his magical sight, until he felt them reaching for him, then he reached back and grabbed Thor's hand, refusing to flinch at the brush of his fingers against the manacles Thor held, though he did quickly reposition his hand to avoid contact; the last thing any of them needed while traversing Yggdrasil, was the manacles disrupting his connection to magic. 

Thor seemed to understand his concerns, for he traded Mjölnir and the manacles even as he called back, "Take hands!" 

Only once he was felt sure the train of warriors had linked hands – he dare not look back to check while the passage was forming around him – did Loki finally make a step forward, onto the rust-coloured branch that formed under his feet, solidifying with each step. Thor's hand in his tugged for a moment before he followed, slow as the line of Æsir began to move behind him, hands clasped tight and uncertain. (There were few soothing stories of those who travelled by way of Yggdrasil, yet many cautions; Loki wondered how many had closed their eyes to keep from catching sight of the tree, afraid it might burn their retinas beyond their ability to heal.) 

The travel was slow and tedious, at least three times as slow as Loki's slowest travel between Realms. Had he not been gagged, he would have happily thrown insults over his shoulder until the fools picked up the pace. (Given the certain reaction to him, however, knowing of his true heritage as they all did, it was likely best he was forced to hold his tongue.) 

At last, they stepped onto the branch that connected to Midgard, closest to where SHIELD was expecting them to appear. Loki squeezed Thor's hand in his, even as he silently willed the orange glow of marking the exit to widen and allow them through. 

Behind him, Thor quietly informed his people, "We're here." 

The shadowy forms of SHIELD agents formed around him as Loki approached the passage, solidifying as he stepped through and the branch of Yggdrasil faded into nothing, causing him to drop about four centimetres through thin air onto the packed dirt of Midgard. 

Loki continued walking forward and to the side a couple paces, leaving enough room for the warriors following him to get through the passage, then he glanced around at the stern faces surrounding them. He recognised the one-eyed Director, as well as the not-as-dead-as-Thor-had-believed Agent Coulson. At Coulson's side was Loki's Hawk – connection severed or not, he would always have a claim on Barton – who's hands were white-knuckled around his bow. Next to Barton was the clever spy, Romanoff, who Loki should like to have claim on, for her careful mask. 

Around the circle, spread out between the agents, were the human superheroes. Iron Man's stern face stood out against the black uniforms, as did Captain America's stripes and star. Banner seemed more likely to fade into the background, wearing a worn suit in dark colours and fingering his glasses in a show of nerves that made Loki almost want to flee back into the branches of Yggdrasil, were it not for the tight grip Thor kept on his hand as the Æsir finished stepping through. 

As soon as the last of the warriors passed into Midgard, Thor turned and clasped the manacles around Loki's wrists again. The agents and Avengers all seemed to relax, and Loki wished he could bare his teeth at them, or at least smile in a way that would certainly give them concern. 

And then, as Thor turned to Fury, eyes lingering on Coulson, the Director motioned over his shoulder and a couple agents parted to allow a body to be shoved into the circle. A body that stumbled and fell, manacled hands catching hard against the dirt as they connected. The head was topped with dark curls, and bowed so Loki couldn't see the face, but he felt, inexplicably, as though he _knew_ this mortal. 

"This is the Midgardian?" Thor asked, even as he knelt next to the fallen creature. 

"He is," Fury agreed, voice hard and cold. "Tell me this isn't one of Loki's tricks." 

"Loki has been unable to see to any such 'tricks'," Thor reminded the human, even as he coaxed the mortal to raise his head. 

Loki jerked back in surprise to see _his own face_ appearing under the dark curls, and a chill washed down his spine at the sudden, inexplicable _need_ to protect the mortal from receiving further of the bruising that littered one side of his face. 

Thor let out a noise of surprise at the mortal's appearance, and Loki couldn't be certain if it was from the damage, or his similarity to Loki. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. 

The mortal swallowed and shook his head, refusing to speak. Coulson was the one who calmly stated, "Thomas Hiddleston. He's an actor from London, according to the official documents we have on him." 

"Official documents can be faked," Fury added. "He didn't start showing up in any films until after Loki's little visit." 

"Stage actor," the mortal rasped out, sounding like it was forced through a grater. There was a defensiveness to the words, but also a sort of resignation, as though he'd had this argument before. "And small television parts." 

"Be _quiet_ ," the nearest agent snapped, reaching down with his hand to hit the huddled mortal, who flinched away. 

Loki hadn't even realised he'd moved until he had the agent's hand pressed painfully tight against his back, a dozen guns pointed at him and his whimpering human shield. 

"Brother," Thor said carefully, standing from next to Thomas, who was looking up at Loki with wide eyes. (Blue, the colour of Thor's eyes when he was happy. The colour Loki had always wanted his eyes to be, because then he would have fit in with his family, he would have _belonged_.)

Loki let out a sound that would have been a snarl, were it not for the gag. He wasn't certain, honestly, whether he was snarling at Thor for thinking to stop him from defending a _mortal_ , or at himself for allowing this moment of weakness. 

"Loki, let him go," Thor said. 

His interest in the mortal had already been shown, and there would be no covering that, not silenced as he was. So Loki shoved the agent away, then smoothly pulled Thomas to his feet, their manacles clinking together. When the mortal stumbled with surprise, Loki steadied him with a show of gentleness that he showed for none beyond his children. 

Fury looked like he'd just been awarded the greatest honour a mortal could been given as he walked over to them. His eye practically _gleamed_ when Loki placed himself between Thomas and the Director. "This is heart-warming," the one-eyed mortal said, voice dripping sarcasm. "You want your little spy safe?" 

Loki narrowed his eyes – Thomas was not of _his_ design – but inclined his head once, agreeing. Because he had a _need_ to see this mortal with his face safe, one he could neither fight, nor ignore. 

Fury made a quick motion and Loki felt Thomas being ripped from his grasp, the wounded mortal letting out a cry that sounded to be one of pain. 

Loki spun to attack whoever thought to take Thomas from him, but Thor stopped him, one strong hand on his upper arm. 

"You help us," Fury said, breathing his words nearly in Loki's ear as a gun was held to Thomas' temple, "we won't kill him. We'll even let you have him once the Kree are dealt with, to take back to Asgard with you. And I'll have Thor put in a good word to your dad from me, so you can keep him." 

Thomas' eyes were wide and terrified, a silent plea in them that Loki not let him die. 

Loki gave a sharp nod, both agreeing to Fury's terms, and promising the helpless human across from him. 

"Good. Take him back," Fury told the two agents holding Thomas. 

"Gentle," Thor added when Thomas let out a whimper of pain at some rough handling and Loki immediately strained against the hand on his arm. 

The agents made a show of gentling their handling as they let Loki's doppelganger into the waiting craft. Loki kept focus on the craft as it rose up and flew off into the distance. He finally turned to look back at where Fury was giving directions when he couldn't see it any more, feeling oddly hollow. What was this magic? And who had cast it? 

Fury told him he would be helping to provide transportation to groups fighting the invading aliens, and he would be allowed his magic for that. After, he would stay with Thor and assist in the fighting; it would be up to the elder god whether Loki would be allowed his magic or not, at that point. 

So he settled in to help, Thor moving around with him as he teleported groups to the locations they needed to be in. Sometimes, he was asked to set up extra defences, and he would glower over the top of his gag until Thor gave a heavy sigh and agreed for him, pushing him towards the spot it was requested he use his magic on. 

During his last two runs, they ran into the blue aliens that were attacking Midgard. They made Loki freeze for a moment, caught by the sickeningly familiar shade of their skin, but they had none of the markings, none of the size of his kin. Still, he took true pleasure in thinning their numbers, and Thor didn't hold him back when he attacked a small group instead of immediately returning to gather their last group of soldiers and agents. 

They remained with the last group, and Thor allowed Loki to retain use of his magic, well aware that Loki fought best when he could skip around the battlefield at his leisure. And with Fury's hold over the mortal that Loki had seemed so attached to, there was little reason for Thor to think the younger prince would run away as soon as the fighting was done. 

The fight was not so easy as to make it boring, but it was nothing like the dangers of traversing Jötunheim. Still, wounds were had, and Loki absently saved more than a couple mortal lives with a magical shield or a silently cast healing spell. 

After, Loki and Thor met with the other Asgardians and Avengers on the helicarrier, the SHIELD agents left in the field to manage clean-up. Thomas was there when they arrived, and Loki drifted towards him without thinking about it, magic sparking from his fingers to cast a quick healing spell just before Thor managed to get the manacles back around his wrists.

Thomas looked surprised even as he reached up to touch the fading bruising and closing cut around his left eye. And then, quiet and unexpected, he shifted closer to Loki, whispering "Thank you," under the cover of the harsh wind on the helicarrier tarmac, where they'd all met up. 

Their shoulders brushed and that odd hollow feeling in Loki's chest faded under the power of a warmth he had no excuse for. 

Fury nodded at them, then. "Yeah, he's all yours," he told Loki, and the Trickster linked his hand with Thomas', intending to not let go, no matter Odin's reaction. "Tell your father he helped out," the Director added to Thor. "And I don't want one of his little spies on my planet." 

"Am I?" Thomas whispered as the Avengers and Asgardians stole Fury and Thor's attentions. 

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. 

"A spy? Something you created for..." He fell silent as Loki shook his head. Then, "Oh. Then, why...?" He motioned between them with the hand not held in Loki's, chain clinking. 

Loki shrugged; this was not of his design. Was Thomas of his creation, he would have no urge to keep him protected, as he'd never cared for other mortals he'd helped mould or claimed as his own. But Thomas... This connection was troubling, though Loki couldn't find it in himself to destroy it. Assuming he could, without magic or words. 

Thomas chewed at his lower lip, then lifted his hand to brush along the gag. Loki closed his eyes and shook his head even as the mortal began to ask, "Is there a way to remove–? Oh." His fingers pressed along the metal until they could tangle in Loki's over-long hair. Loki knew he was looking for a latch, but there was no way to explain that only Odin could remove the gag through magic, so he left the mortal to it. 

And Loki, who had spent the time since his fall through the Void going out of his way to avoid physical contact, didn't even feel the urge to make the mortal cease his gentle touches as his fingers gave up searching and simply brushed through the black locks, catching in tangles made by the wind, or where splashes of blood and other signs of physical fighting had been left to settle. 

A discordant humming mixed with the thrum of the helicarrier's engines, nearly inaudible over the call of the wind, but Loki caught it and jerked his head around, dislodging Thomas' hand. He saw no cause for the sound, and a glance at where Thor stood some steps away found Fury yelling to be heard over the wind and whatever insults Stark was letting fly; none of them could likely hear the odd sound at all. 

"Is something wro–" Thomas started. 

The helicarrier shook violently beneath them, and Loki caught the mortal against him as Thomas lost his footing. He heard panicked shouting coming from the group where Fury had been yelling, but it was too late, as smoke and orange flames rose from one of the engine turbines. 

"Oh my God," Thomas breathed against Loki's ear, his hands gripping tight in Loki's leathers. 

Iron Man was in the air, heading for the smoking turbine, and the others who'd been in that group ran for the doors inside or the turbine, shouting over the wind to each other, or into earpieces. 

Thor was just turning to run back towards Loki, clearly having only just remembered about the younger god, when the helicarrier shook again and a second engine stopped working. 

The bridge tilted, the two working engines on one side and unable to make up for the lack of the smoking two on the other. Loki felt his feet slipping even as he watched others grabbing for purchase on the bridge. A couple of planes let out horrible groans and creaks as they pulled at their bearings. 

Thor slipped and used Mjölnir to get aloft, eyes looking helplessly at Loki before he turned to duck under the helicarrier and try to steady it while someone tried to get the engines back online. 

One of the planes snapped free and rushed over the edge. A trailing cord caught Thomas and Loki around their legs, dragging them along. Thomas let out a terrified scream and buried his face against Loki's throat as the god tightened his grip around the mortal. 

Loki closed his eyes and fought against his bindings, fought for his magic, for his life, even as he knew he would never manage it. Perhaps, if they were lucky, they would land in the ocean and Loki could absorb most of the impact with the water. Maybe they would both survive. 

Clouds and dark smoke cleared to show them over land. 

Land that had been ravaged and burned with wreckage. 

Somehow, it seemed only proper that Loki, God of Fire and a Frost Jötun, should die in this way. 

Everything fell still and silent for a moment, air rushing around them in their freefall, and Loki pressed his gag against Thomas' forehead in a parody of a kiss. 

An apology. 

Contact came with a stab through the heart – literally; they'd landed on a jutting pole, both impaled – and Loki closed his eyes to the crackle of orange fire and the broken gurgle of the mortal in his arms. 

And Loki died.


End file.
